The Art of Denial
by Cuban Sombrero Gal
Summary: As James rightly points out, denial is more than just a river in Egypt. To Remus though, it's nothing but a way of avoiding the fact that he really does love Sirius Black. Please R&R.


**T h e A r t o f D e n i a l**

_(The worst thing you can do for love is deny it; so when you find that special someone, don't let anyone or anything to get in your way)_

When it first happens, Remus doesn't understand it. What _it _is exactly, he isn't entirely sure, but all of a sudden, his focus is less on Sirius' longwinded, rather exaggerated story (although it's impossible to deny exactly how tantalising his voice is), and more on his masculine features, his delicate lips and expressive, yet harsh and cold grey eyes. Remus almost thinks this is a dream, because heck, he's anything _but _the type to be gay (his mind stutters on the word and he rolls it around on his tongue, trying ever so hard to make sense of something so foreign), if that's what he is, because he's only been staring at Sirius' face, lost in stupor, for two minutes and fifty-seven seconds and he's come to this conclusion.

"Remus, are you – holy shit, I recognise that face!"

"What face?" Remus asks, looking wildly around.

"Your face, Moony. It's the one James wears every single time he mentions She Who Must Not Be Named." Sirius slaps a palm to his forehead, reveling in the melodrama caused by Remus being 'in love.' Remus, on the other hand, can feel his face flickering rapidly between violent shades of red and green.

"Me? In love?" Remus asked, making the connection immediately. "Never! You know I'm still cynical about girls after Olivia … and … and her apparent love of broom closets and lack of morality." Remus finds lying even easier than her thought: he is still wary of girls after The Incident, but it's not exactly a _girl_ he's referring to here, is it?

"It's me, right, Moony. It's me, isn't it?" Sirius' playful tone obviously insinuates nothing more than a joke, and there's that chaste grin and wink again, hell, it's a lethal combination, leaving Remus short of breath.

"Ye-no."

"Come on Remus, you know it's true. You can't resist me."  
"Yeah-no –" Remus hurriedly glances at his watch, absolutely mortified by the whole situation "-crap, prefect meetings." He holds his arm up apologetically, deep brown eyes focused on a tree on the other side of the lake, focused anywhere but Sirius, because for all Sirius' Black assumed idiocy, he's right about one thing: Remus can't resist.

**--- **

Hands collide, one sweaty palm clasps another, and Remus is drowning amidst a sea of confusion. Why doesn't he feel the same tingle, the same rush of adrenalin when he celebrates with James or Peter?

Holy crap, he can't even celebrate yet another successful retrieval of Firewhiskey from The Three Broomsticks without … without feeling exactly whatever it is that he feels.

It almost comes out during Truth or Dare, the terrible secret (Remus isn't quite sure why it's so terrible, it's one of those indiscernible things that is never _really _comprehended but always considered truthful). Some random Gryffindor fourth year who has a friend of a friend that plays on the Quidditch team is having a birthday, and to Sirius, James, and therefore Peter, it's nothing more than an excuse to get drunk.

"Truth or dare, She-mus?" Sirius asks, his words slurred and tumbling upon one another.

"Truth" Sirius' dares were almost too imaginative at the best of times, without allowing his drunken behaviour to influence them.

"Who do you have a crush on?"

Fate is a bastard, Remus decides. A fat, ugly bastard. And that's when he knows that this whole thing with Sirius is indeed serious, because he never would have thought anything like that before. He may be a Marauder, but a few of their personality traits are lacking in him.

"No-one, I'm still upset over Olivia." It's such a lie, nothing more than a cover-up of the truth, and yet, for the second time in two days, it feels so real.

"I don't fink so Moon-zy," Sirius mutters, proving that inebriation may not affect his creativity, but that it certainly influences his speech. "You've gotta like some-shun."

"No." Remus is firm. "One day I will find love again, but now, I'm still dealing with the repercussions of Olivia and her escapades."

So he denies it, again and again, until eventually, he's not living a lie, it's all so real.

After all, he's not a Marauder – handsome, a girl magnet and completely and utterly_straight _- for nothing.

**--- **

"I know your secret, Remus."

"Wha-" Remus rolls over, digging his elbow deeper into the creases of his pillow and using it to hold his head up. He blinks at James, attempting to focus upon his friend through blurry eyes.

"Denial is more than just a river in Egypt, Remus."

Remus nods, starting to wake up enough to fully process what was going on.

"How do you know that? And what does it mean? Of course the Nile is a river in Egypt."

"And to think you're the smart one …" James laughs, a smirk on his face that could only be described as arrogant. "You like Sirius. Do I need to make it any clearer?"

"Me? Sirius? No, James, of course not, it's crystal clear."

"Good. Now Lily told me to tell you that –"  
"I'm joking Prongs." Remus rolls his eyes, clambering out of bed and scurrying over to his chest of drawers to find some clothes.

"Joking?" For all James' love of pranks, Remus finds it hard to believe that such a word was lacking from his vocabulary.

"Yes, joking," Remus says exasperatedly.

"So anyway," James says, "you like Sirius, right?"

"Yeah-no."

"Lily says you give him secretive glances, and that you watch him all the time in Potions, and Lily's usually right."

"Of course, I like Sirius," Remus snorts, resisting the urge to laugh at the fact that this conversation was … well, absolutely pathetic. "We're_friends."_

"So, you don't like him as anything more?"

"Prongs, did Lily put you up to this?"

"Possibly."

"Well tell her that there's nothing to tell."

Remus strides across the room, his chocolate brown eyes glinting in the sunlight shone through the window.

Was he really that conspicuous?

"Remus." Sirius' voice echoes in his ears as he scurried the corridor, heading for breakfast. At least bacon couldn't make assumptions about the love lives of werewolves.

"What do you want Sirius?" Remus asks.

"James told me – ahh, maybe we should step out of the corridor." Sirius grabs Remus' arm, digging his fingernails into the skin and drags him into a nearby corner.

"What do you want Sirius?" Remus asks again irritably. "I'm hungry, and if I don't go soon, you know that James will have eaten all the eggs."

"This is just a little more important than eggs, Moony," Sirius says, and once that voice infiltrates his ears again, Remus can't help but agree, despite not having a clue what his friend (was that even an acceptable term anymore?) is talking about. "James says you like me."

Remus cranes his neck, glancing around the corridor, but James is nowhere to be found.

"Of course not Padfoot," he mumbles, his voice much too high and fast for any sort of normalcy, "why would Prongs say that?"

"I don't know, you tell me. Because I'm sorry Moony, but I just … I'm not gay."

Nervously, Remus nods.  
"I think … I think James was just joking. I know you're not gay."

"I'm not in love with men; I'm in love with Remus Lupin."

Remus pushes past Sirius, heading for the relative peace of the Great Hall at last, when the words _finally_ seep into his mind.

"Wha-" It was the only comprehensible word he could utter.

"It's you Moony. You're the – well, you're the everything to my everything, because I'm not one for cheesy puns."

"I don't get you." Remus has always prided himself on being eloquent, but now …

Sirius shakes his head in disbelief, his long black locks obscuring his cold, grey eyes.

"I'm in love with you Moony."

"This is a bit sudden. How … how long?"

"Forever."

Remus laughs slightly, a little colour returning to his cheeks.

"I thought you said you weren't into cheesy puns."

"I'm not, but as cliché as this sounds, the look you make when you say that is adorable."

"Whatever."

It's Sirius' turn to laugh now.

"For someone so smart, Remus, you sure have a lot to learn."

"Well today I learnt that denial is more than just a river in Egypt."  
"I'll be sure to thank Prongs for offering you such an enlightening fact."

Remus gives Sirius a quizzical look, wondering how on earth he could know what James said mere hours ago, but that thought is soon lost amongst confusion and thoughts of _exactly _how damn sexy Sirius is.

"James gave me the same speech last night."  
"Really? Did he include his 'Lily is God and if you don't believe me I'll kick your knackers' speech?"

"Kick your knackers?" Sirius repeats incredulously. "Remus Lupin, I'm rubbing off on you already."

And as Remus Lupin kisses Sirius Black for the first time, at exactly eight thirty-one Saturday morning on the fourteenth of May 1977, all he can do is deny the fact that he ever denied what he felt for his boyfriend at all.

**--- **

(a/n: Argh … I seriously cannot believe I wrote that. a)It's disgustingly cliché, and b)it's Remus/Sirius. –gag- Anyway, the reason for this random lunacy on my behalf is my darling fiancée, Charli, who I adore and who is in love with this pairing. I couldn't track down Marilyn Manson for her, so this will have to do. In the meantime, while she goes Marilyn Manson hunting, you're all invited to our wedding, which includes a mother who wears a hat and cries a lot, about four different Johnny Depp, Tara (of My Immortal Imfamy) being bashed over the head with a frying pan by her fellow flower girls, and … yeah. Hint, hint: reviews make wonderful wedding presents.)

­_fin, _

_- Cuba …x_


End file.
